I walked to the front of the room buzzer, in hand, with two other contestant wannabes. The screen lit up with the categories and dollar amounts. First up was famous names for $100. This pioneer nurse founded a hospital at Andersonville prison camp during the Civil War. Eager to show my stuff, I buzzed in immediately and responded confidently, who is Florence Nightingale? That's incorrect, said the host. I was wrong. Then the microbiologist hit his button, who was Clara Barton? I uttered a frustrated and spontaneous "Poop!" Poop. The word hung in the air. Play stopped. Everyone looked at me. One of the coordinators said, without a hint of compassion or irony, "One does not say poop on Jeopardy." Most Jeopardy contestants are fairly expressionless, neither rejoicing nor disparaging over their answers. This wasn't Wheel of Fortune after all, where contestants frequently scream with delight and do endzone dances behind the podium. I apologized and fumbled for my composure. Note to self: rein in your natural animation. The next answer was read and I tensed. I felt nervous. My brain was not in the moment. My confident "I got this" persona evaporated. Even when I managed to give a few correct answers, my buzzer was hesitant. My voice weak and strangled. I was so fearful of making another error and uttering another, maybe worse, expletive. I overcompensated in an attempt to make up for my poop faux pas. Well, I wasn't called to be on the show. It took me exactly one question to take myself out of the running. My dream of becoming the next Ken Jennings was dashed. I felt deflated. I did not get to show off in front of a national TV audience. The smartest kid in the room had to tell all the people she had alerted about her Jeopardy tryout that, no, she did not qualify. I still watched Jeopardy. Like the true fan I am. I still curse at the contestants, when no one of them knows the Badger is the state animal of Wisconsin, or that Thomas Hardy wrote Tess of the d'Urbervilles. Sometimes after I make a particularly stunning run of correct answers, while watching the show, my husband will turn to me and bemoan the fact that I wouldn't be famous if I'd only kept my mouth shut. Yeah, maybe. I'm waiting for a category called four letter words. Up on the blue screen would appear "Palindrome meaning excrement." I'd know what to say.